Thom Acee Slut Shames his Dog...

THOM-ACEEIt would seem as though there is no lifeforms on this planet incapable of feeling shame… even dogs… 

About a decade ago I lived by this chick named Rachel, a friendly lady who lived upstairs from me with her oafish husband and his sister. She was short and pasty, with a goofy, androgynous, chubby face capped under a mess of unkept sandy blonde curls. She had a smile like a car crash, incisors and bicuspids thrown about haphazardly along her gum line (it didn't help matters that she was a happy girl, forever flashing that cigarette and coffee stained knife fight to any and all). Now, I wouldn't say that Rachel was a fat girl, but she easily sported an extra thirty, conveniently tucked into her tits and ass (one would think the blessing cream middle to an otherwise unappealing shitcake, but not so much. She was short, so the titties' share of the thirty went a long way, making her look much fatter than she was. 5115-pigfucking-weebleHer ass didn't fair any better, her WASPy ass looking more like a poorly hammered board hanging long and loose off her than the "junk in the trunk" she would prattle on about after having too many cocktails). She was obsessed with Price and because of that made sure to incorporate as much purple into her wardrobe as possible, looking like a lost grape as she waddled about on short stubby legs as she marched every blessed morning for her ten laps around the complex listening to self help tapes. 

She was friendly and pleasant and nice enough for me to sell weed to, but never once had i or would I have thought about slipping her some dick. 

Until that one time that I did...

It was raining one of those hard, trap you inside Florida summer rains on like a Tuesday, which is the perfect night to have such a storm take place cause you didn't feel like you were wasting an evening sitting at home catching up on laundry. I had to run out to my car to get some rolling papers when Rachel ran into me

"You look ridiculous," she complimented, arms weighed down by an overloaded basket of laundry as she stared as the wall of roaring rain. I deserved the ribbing, standing there half dressed, with my hair in a sumo knot shielding myself from God's wrath underneath a pink Dora the Explorer umbrella barely big enough to do the job. 

"No worse than you will running that shit to the machines," I tease back, noticing her laundry. 

"No shit. Fucking John, shit that he is, spent the day getting stoned and not doing my laundry. Now he's out playing fucking cards* and I have to brave the monsoon... You have machines at your place, don't you?" She asks. 

*(ed note: by cards she meant Magic: The Gathering, not poker or anything edgy like that...)

"Yea," I forced a reply, knowing instantly where all this was going. 

"You think it'd be cool if I popped my stuff in this one time? Not gonna make a thing outta it or anything... Just really need to get my scrubs washed for work and this rain..." She egged on, doing her absolute best to seem undeniable. 

"Of course." I replied, knowing i couldn't say no. 

She follows me up, dropping her things into the machine before taking off back to her place for a moment. She returns with money and a bottle of cheap wine, figuring on buying her supply for the week while she was already speaking to me. 

We talk for a bit... Nothing serious; the stoned jabber of loose strangers. Truth be told I never felt it get flirty... Maybe it 5115-pigfucking-awkwardwas the wine or the smoke or the boredom, but somehow I effortlessly had managed to get this woman naked and lusting before her clothes where done drying. Too late to turn back, it took minutes more before the passions subsided, the unsettling awkwardness of adultery killing what should have been the blissful afterglow only truly beastly carnal acts can bestow, 

it wasn't until a few days later, when I saw John come down the stairs that I felt the shame for my actions. It must have stunk off me, as I found myself paying his rambling nonsense mind as I sat there feeling bad for cuckolding him without nary a consideration given to it. 

 

I don't tell this story to brag, but rather I tell it to display that I too understand the weaknesses of the flesh... That I know the sting and shame of succumbing to these frailties. It is important that you know this as I tell you my tale.. Know I am not judging or shaming... Merely documenting the horrors that I was forced to witness... 

 

An Affront to the Laws of God and Man...

 

So my evening starts out like any other Wednesday evening has for the past few years... 

I get home, take a shit, smoke a joint, read a comic book...

After that, I head outside to my backyard to enjoy a nice cigar in the near perfect Florida weather while I tend to my various pets. We have three dogs and a pig currently living with us, and the four of them can be quite a handful in the afternoons. 

Watching a pig and dogs live together can be very entertaining at times, the creatures pickng up the oddest tendencies from one another. But it has it's more disgusting side (like how my one of my dogs, Olaf, has become addicted to eating pig shit. So much so, that he doesn't like to wait for her to drop it out, lining up to take hunks off the tap, as it were. We asked the vet about it and he said it's perfectly normal... Some paleo bullshit about pigs not digesting all their food and dogs getting nutrients from it.) 

As spring is in the air, one of my girl dogs happens to be in heat... A time of year which expectedly drives Olaf into a drippy purple pricked rage. But alas, while he is fixed and capable to enjoy himself guilt free with little Donkey, she is too small for his member and thus doesn't let him even try. 

So I'm sitting there, enjoying a smoke, listening to Legion of Skanks (good podcast, FYI. Give it a listen) when I hear scuffling. I look up, expecting to have to scold Olaf  for wrestling with the pig or stealing his toys or food. 

But that's not what I saw at all...

As it turns out, the pig also happens to be in heat....

And had spent the day rolling around with pheromone soaked Donkey. 

I guess one thing led to another during the course of their wrestling match, Olaf deciding to take things in a different direction: 

5115-pigfucking-olaf3

 

5115-pigfucking-olaf1

 

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I scream for him to stop, which he complies to quickly... But not before looking up and giving me the most shameful look I have ever seen an animal give. It was like he was asking me not to think of him too harshly... He was all filled with piss and vinegar and needed to find a release....

 

Which he did...

5115-pigfucking-cum

Disgusted with him I threw open the door, sending him inside to his crate, when I stopped and noticed something strange... 

The pig was nipping at Olaf's unit as he walked towards the house, forcing him to stop. When he did, she would get out in front of him and present herself. And Olaf would look at that swollen, angry, and looking freshly punched pig cunny... And back at me and whimper and back at that pig cunny... And back at me again, giving me that same same pathetic look. His front paws trembled as he paused a second longer, dripping throbbing dog dick fully unsheathed as his options flashed before his limited mind. 

But he restrained himself, good boy that he is (though not without its cost, the jilted pig annoyed at the rejection and chased him into the house head butting and squealing the whole way). 

 

Both races will be destroyed!!!!

5115-pigfuckingdogshame

Needless to say. The second my wife walks in from her pole dancing class this is the first thing I tell her. 

I stare puzzled at her as she does not squeal with childlike delight as I show her my few pictures,  recounting my tale like some tribal shaman around the campfire; a loose rolled spliff of fine Florida dank doing little to aid in my efforts. 

"And you let this happen?" She asks me in the same sort of horrified tone I assume she would have used if it had been me in the pictures mounting the pig. 

5115-pigfucking-stickfigI explain to her how this was a natural thing, in a weird sort of way... How I had done nothing to encourage the taboo affair.  I made desperate bad analogies to aid my point, comparing dog on pig relations to step sibling falling in love and interracial relationships. This did little to aid my case... My sanity now coming into as much judgement as my perversions were. 

We sit quiet for a second, I'm sure my chick pondering for the millionth time the turns she had to make in life  to find herself sitting in bed with an inter-species pornographer. 

"All I know is," I start, breaking the awkward silence as my stoned mind rolls off the cuff,"that I am glad as shit we got that dumb dog fixed."

"What?" She asks. She gives me a look, similar to the one the dog gave me earlier and that I no doubt gave to John in the stairwell a decade ago; pitiful sad eyes staring out hoping to hide her inner feelings of disgust. 

"I mean, we'd have to find a piggy abortionist. Or drown those abominations at birth. Can't have fucking pigdogs running around. What would the neighbors think?" 

5115-pigfucking-shameShe just stares at me, giving me that same thousand mile stare she does night after blessed night, kissing my head as she gets up for the shower.

"You're so lucky I make more than you and really would hate giving you alimony." She says, shaking her head in mild disgust as she closes the door. 

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